Across the Universe
by Gea
Summary: Jack returns to Shipwreck Cove and persuades Elizabeth to help him in the hunt for the fountain of youth. Across the world they go in search of the mystic water in hopes of living forever, while Elizabeth struggles with her loyalties and her heart.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Across the Universe - Chapter 1  
**Author:** Gea / gealuv  
**Disclaimer:** Ze mouse owns it, I swear. And ze beatles own any references to 'Across the Universe'.  
**Rating:** PG - R as time goes on  
**Pairings:** J/E, W/E, even some slight B/E if I feel like it  
**Summary:** Jack Sparrow returns to Shipwreck Cove to persuade Elizabeth Swann to help him in the hunt for the fountain of youth. Across the world they go in search of they mystic water in hopes of living forever, while Elizabeth struggles between her loyalties and her heart.  
**Beta: **many thanks to savvysparrowluv**  
_Author's Notes:_**_ Yes, crappy summary but to be honest, I've never been all too good at them anyway. I hope you are tempted enough though to read and enjoy it enough to stick around.  
_

_**Across the Universe - Chapter 1**_

_'Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup'_

It had appeared to be any other night for the patrons and barmaids of _The White Wench_ tavern, as young Addison bounced about the room, dispensing tankards of grog and minding her backside as a few swiped lecherously at her rear. The humidity that hung in the air assembled beads of sweat at the nape of her neck as she made her rounds with a cheerful grin and a graceful step.

'_That poor brute Thompson came wandering into me shop today. Looking for his Asian bride, he says! Poor sod won't…'_

'_The whole lot of them…swallowed by a monster as big as the whole isle of Shipwreck! Row of teeth as big as a ship, says me cousin…'_

'_Marcy! Ye know her right as the one who fancied a roll in the hay with Jimmy 'One Eye' a few months back…'_

Addison kept a sharp ear to the exchanges around her. Gossip leaked from the outside world seemed to be her only retribution for her life within the tavern. Hardly ever could she find the time to do anything but wait on costumers and clean tables. Seeing as she came from such an impoverished background, working the bar appeared to be her only choiceSo, she kept an acute ear to the conversations to pass the time. Hearing about almost everyone's business without ever stepping foot into town or in fact, even once meeting them was routine. _Keeps me sane_, she had once told her sick mother who lay in bed questioning her daughter's fateful imprisonment to the tavern. That was her life, and as much as she would have liked to have whined and complained, there was no way out of it.

Sweeping through the crowds after finishing her rounds, she slipped neatly past Fanny McDougaon, her matron barmaid, who paid her attention to the scene behind young Addison. Dodging the tray that swayed on the flat of her palm, she watched as the old woman toddled by with a twisted scowl. Addison, minding the wench's age and foul temperament kept quiet and went behind the bar. Most of the other barmaids who worked alongside her were well into their thirties, making her the youngest to work there but giving her the most esteem it appeared as they not only worked the tavern but the inn up stairs as well. Seeing as Fanny and her mother, who had worked at the tavern before she'd fallen ill, were on friendly terms, Fanny had allowed Addison serve the patrons' grog and rum and nothing else.

Wiping down the counter, she beheld the sight of the tavern, drinking in the merry uproar and flurry of music that took to the air around her. There was laughter and dancing and not a single face faltered from its cheerful demeanor. There were few even, Addison noted, who kept to the shadows, whispering indecencies into the ears of their lovers whom they called their own for that one, single night. It was never this blissful, bearing in mind that this particular tavern was situated on the rougher side of Shipwreck Cove. Still, it was far from being any sort of problem as it counted more like a break than anything for the young girl who was used to fending off drunkards and ducking beneath tables whenever a brawl broke out.

"She's comin', ye know." Taken from her musings, the barmaid glanced over her shoulder to find an elderly man hunched over his mug, eyeing her through a veil of unkempt hair. Though very old, he seemed quite sturdy with calloused hands and a heavy coat resting on his shoulders. She stared back for a moment, wondering if the man was addressing her.

"Who's coming?" she questioned warily as she approached him. The man shifted slightly in his seat, earnestly passing the tankard between his hands.

"The one carryin' the beatin' chest."

Addison watched as he tipped his head back to finish what was left of his grog, studying the white scar that ran down the length of his face until it was hidden beneath the collar of his shirt. She swallowed nervously, drawing closer to him with bright eyes and quivering hands. As she opened her mouth to speak, she was hushed by Fanny's shrill beckoning from across the noisy room. Her gaze lingered on the man whose eyes were fixated on the floor before she paced towards the end of the counter, hoping he'd stay put for questioning while she was gone.

In a matter of minutes, Addison had dealt with the fussy hag who had insisted she be the one to tend to a spill before she returned to find the old man had vanished. She propped her elbows up onto the counter top, cradling her head in the palm of her hands. _The one carrying the beating chest…_Well, didn't everyone's chest beat with their heart? But still, how could one carry their beating chest?The man had spoken in riddles that she simply could not puzzle out. Addison stared down at the wood beneath her fingers, lost in thought, as she traced over the etchings dug into it. The carvings were like scars on the timber made by the blade of a knife or some other sharp edge. She slowed her movements, suddenly realizing all too well the person whom the man had been referring to.

_Captain Elizabeth Turner; Pirate Lord of Singapore, King of the Brethren Court._ Such a grand title would fit only the strongest of warriors. One who had seen and done things with naught but conviction, who had battled the odds and who fought for their cause with passion and vigor. Yet, the first time Addison Baker laid eyes on the frail figure that stepped through the parted crowd near the doorway, the name would have never crossed her mind. In that moment, the laughter and music died and silence blanketed the tavern. Nearly every pair of eyes locked onto the woman in rags as she dragged herself through the dumbstruck crowds towards the bar where Addison gawked with the rest of the pale faces. Tucked neatly beneath her arm was the small chest with such a grand legend that it broke the silence into a fit of whispers.

'_The pirate king, she's returned?'_

'_I heard it be Captain Teague who ordered her te' come back and rule – was me brother who told me, I swear!'_

'_Is it true she fought the devil himself for her husband's soul?'_

'_Nah, she be a widowed king now. Heard she found 'im bedding the very goddess who bedded Davy Jones before 'im! That is till the king took 'is heart out and locked it in the chest.' _

Addison's face screwed irritably at the gossiping vermin who dared to talk about their king while she was well in earshot. Still, Elizabeth seemed oblivious as she perched herself onto one of the barstools and set the chest on the seat next to her.

'_What a terrible sight she is from the princess she once was! Oh, you didn't know? She comes from honest-to-goodness blue blood!'_

'_You're spinning lies, wench. It be that madcap Sparrow who took out his heart and gave it to the king. Said something bout livin' forever without it, I think.' _

"A bottle of rum, please." Addison quickly shut out the mutters around her and turned her gaze to the woman seated before her. By her body structure, she seemed nothing to fear; a thin almost skeletal being with her garments barely clinging to her skin. And although her facial aspects were beyond stunning, she looked exhausted and trapped in the depths of her melancholy. The young girl could even detect the black rings beneath her eyes signifying more than one sleepless night for the once vigorous king. This couldn't be _the_ Elizabeth. Still, there was a certain air to her, she noticed. Whether it was the sharp angle of her chin or the stern glint in her great brown eyes, Addison could tell somewhere beneath her withered exterior lay a spirited warrior — a spirited pirate.

With great haste, the barmaid rushed off to fetch a bottle of their finest rum and returned with both the drink and an empty mug in hand. She placed it down in front of Elizabeth who had been staring at the floor, a doubloon flipping back and forth across the flat of her knuckles as she was rapt in her own private thoughts. The gold piece was trapped between the crevasse of her middle and forefinger when she stopped its movement and laid it flat on the counter for Addison to collect. With nimble fingers, she reached for the gold while Elizabeth dismissed the mug and eagerly swilled from the bottle instead.

From what she could hear, the wave of gossip was muffled beneath the casual banter of the tavern which was in turn drowned out by the recurring outbreaks of music. As Addison pretended to go on about her business around the bar cleaning mugs and serving drinks, she kept a lingering eye on the pirate king who went on drinking her rum and casting furtive glances to those who brushed by the chest beside her. She would have been lying if she said she wasn't at all tempted to bombard Elizabeth with a flurry of questions but a tug at her gut seemed to keep her at bay. From past nights and remnants of conversations, she'd gathered Elizabeth to be a testy woman with no time to settle truth from inane prattle.

_-- 'sept for when it comes to ol' Jack Sparrow, Pintel tells me; crewed the _Black Pearl_, I swear by it. Said King Turner, formerly known as Swann says he, and Cap'n Sparrow used to squabble day n' night!_ Addison had heard one of the patrons of the bar affirm to another late one night. By her naivety, she couldn't help but fall victim to the rumors half the time; forgetting that most of what she heard was complete rubbish. Although it was quite ordinary, she found, for the subject of Jack Sparrow to be uttered in the same breath as Elizabeth.

Her cheeks reddened as she recalled the stories she had heard of the infamous captain – or non-captain, depending on who was telling the story. She had never met him and hoped for her protected virtue she never would upon hearing about the numerous women he had bedded by luring them in with pure charm. Of course from this, countless rumors retold in the same fashion had surfaced that in exchange for rescuing a goddess she granted him the power to woo any woman who so much as glanced his way. She scoffed at the mere thought of it, scrubbing harder at the table top in a huff.

"Do you always take your work this seriously?" a voice queried from her right. Addison started at the sound, gaping at the woman who leaned into her hand as she took another swig of rum. The barmaid looked back at the rag caught between her fists before tossing it on the counter as if it were diseased. Elizabeth simply raised a brow in what Addison seemed to note as amusement.

"No, not usually, your highness." she willed herself to speak, inwardly smacking herself for appearing like such a fool. The pirate king drummed her fingers against the neck of the bottle as she averted her gaze to the chest.

"I'm looking for someone; I wonder if you'd know where I can find him." Her eyes never left the sight of the chest.

"I'm quite familiar with the residents of Shipwreck Cove, your liege. If you give me the name I'm sure I could assist you." Addison reviewed her carefully picked words, relishing in the properness of them. Elizabeth half smiled to herself as if she were retracing something in her mind.

"Captain Teague. Do you know where I can find him?" The barmaid, whose face faltered a bit at the name drop before she collected herself coolly, responded,

"Yes, but there's no sense in me explaining to you where to locate him as he's almost impossible to find if you don't know where to look, your majesty. I'd be happy to show you to him though, your grace, once I finish my shift." Elizabeth smirked in spite of her obvious exhaustion and remarked,

"Agreed on the condition that you end these foolish titles you continue calling me by." Addison could feel her face grow hot as she nodded stupidly and agreed to the terms. "Good. I'm Elizabeth Tur—," Elizabeth's hand hovered in mid-air for a moment as her eyes clouded and she stopped to correct herself before extending her arm fully, "Swann. My name is Captain Elizabeth Swann." Addison noted the alteration, suddenly wondering whether the rumor of the king's falling out with her husband had actually been true. Disregarding it for the time being, she shook Elizabeth's hand.

"I'm Addison Baker."

Addison pressed her ear to the wood, struggling to decipher the conversation muffled behind the door. After she had finished work, she had eagerly led Elizabeth through the winding streets of Shipwreck Cove to where she had overheard on numerous accounts whereCaptain Teague lived. Finding the general area where the high stacked ship-wreck apartments that belonged to the Keeper were was simple as all the residentes of the Cove knew which area he rented out. Remembering certain details like exactly which one _he_ stayed in though was a different story. Fortunately after a few lucky guesses, the young girl's humiliation was spared when the fearsome man appeared behind one of the doors that opened to them. She was nothing if not invisible to him as he had motioned the king into his quarters with no more than a wave and an irritated _'I've been waiting.'_ Addison had hesitantly turned on her heel to leave for home before Elizabeth kindly instructed her to stay and wait for her out in the hall.

Addison further forced herself upon the door, her acute ear straining against the barrier between them. If there was one thing she couldn't resist, it was other people's business.

--

Elizabeth shifted slightly in the elaborately furnished chair she had been offered as she drummed her fingers against the grand, oak table. Her initial presumptions of what the homes ofShipwreck Covewere like had turned out to be true. It appeared that almost all of the insides of the buildings matched their outer exteriors. Teague's dwelling alone was an example of complete disorganization and a lack of consistency in fixtures. Various books and pages of paper crowded the far end of the table with tiny bobbles and feathers hidden in between. Even the shelves that lined the far walls were dissimilar in craftsmanship and teeming with foreign trinkets that distinctly reminded her of the former Tia Dalma's hovel on the _Pantano River_. The Persian rug that carpeted the stained ship floorboards were decorated with intricate patterns and frayed edges to add a sense of homeliness to the flat. It was humble, to say the least, and frankly Elizabeth wouldn't have pictured it any other way.

"I see you've not buried the chest yet," Teague noted as he poured himself a glass of brandy,which she found particularly interesting for a pirate. She averted her gaze to the trunk settled on the seat beside her. Elizabeth found she had quite the habit of placing the chest on chairs or stools as if it were still fully apart of a person.

"No, not yet," she uttered, her fingertips tenderly ghosting across the lid. How could she even think of burying it when she couldn't even shake the unintentional notion that her husband still embodied the heart now locked within? _No_,_ not husband, not anymore._ Elizabeth hushed her inner prodding. No matter if Will had, in principle, died, and no matter if she was destined never to see him again if only thrice in her entire life, he was still her husband. _That must be why you go by the name Swann still then, correct?_ When had her mind become so unruly? It felt as if the crossing to the locker had rattled her wits as much as Jack's.

Teague cleared his throat to fill the discomfort that hung in the air before he took another sip of brandy. From the first impression she'd had of him, Elizabeth had not felt Teague to be a compassionate man but she figured in a situation like this is would be far better to have someone as detached as possible. She didn't need someone asking questions, demanding answers since as far as she was concerned they could all go to hell. She made a habit of muffling out the gossip and concentrating on her own business when she was in public. What did they know anyway?

"I'm arranging for your chambers to be ready for you by tomorrow but for now, you'll stay in the vacant room next door." Elizabeth registered his words a second time over.

"You don't honestly believe I'm going to live here, in the heart of _Shipwreck_, do you?" Teague stared at her, drooping black eyes bearing into her intently.

"And just where do you wish to go then?" Elizabeth merely blinked. For the first time, realized that she had never taken any thought to what her future held. The past year had been such an ongoing journey that when it finally came to settling down, she felt entirely lost. Being trapped within the confines of the town seemed out of the question, but attempting at a life beyond the Cove seemed just as inane. Why hadn't she given this any thought? Again, she peered over at the chest that silently pled its case to her keen ear.

"Perhaps we can come to some kind of agreement."

"I'm listening," he replied, angling his face so that the rim of his hat cast a shadow over his face against the candlelight.

"Let me build myself a house on one of the knolls by the seaside. I'll even find some sort of work to pay you with for the materials." He seemed to study her face for a moment before retaliating in a brusque manner,

"I assume these apartments are not to your liking?"

"No, they're wonderful, really. It's simply that I would rather be on my own and away from the bustle of the city. I beg of you not to mistake my preference as aversion to stay here, though."

It was clear by the twitch of his brow that he was anything but amused with the way she danced around the affront with her refined vocabulary. Still, it seemed to do the trick as he nodded slightly and finished off the last of his brandy.

"I only hope you aren't expecting any aid from me, child." Elizabeth smirked.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Beneath the shade of his hat, the faint trace of a smirk mirroring her own could be spotted before it was whisked away by the candlelight that lit his face as he slid back in his chair and rose to his feet.

"One of the chambermaids will be up to show you to your room. I'll fetch you in the morning," he told her as she followed him to the door. Twisting the knob, he pulled it open, revealing a rather mortified looking Addison falling at their feet. The girl gave a nervous laugh, her face a bright shade of red as she edged herself backwards before jumping to her feet. Elizabeth watched as Teague remained undaunted, his usual fierce expression enough to make even the strongest of men cower in fear or in this case, the nosiest of women press their backs to the farthest wall and snivel.

After he took his leave, Elizabeth approached Addison who had collapsed on the floor in sheer terror. Her hand flew to her waist as she observed the rather pale color that had replaced the red tint that had previously occupied it. "Do you enjoy eavesdropping on other people's conversations?" she inquired with an obvious hint of irritation in her voice. Addison merely stared at the floor, her hands folded neatly on her lap.

"My deepest apologies, your majesty."

"It appears you've already forgotten our agreement in addition to your manners, too." Again, the familiar sheet of scarlet covered her face as the situation worsened for her.

"I'm sorry. I'll leave you now." Addison hiked her skirts up with great haste and readied herself to run off down the hall before she was kept in place by some very strange words.

"How would you like to be my lady in waiting, Addison?" Turning to face her king, Addison swept a lock of russet hair behind her ear.

"But, you just--,"

"I'll only need you for a little while before I can properly settle in and I'll pay you for your assistance." Elizabeth watched as Addison shifted her weight to one side, apparently considering the offer she'd been presented with. Finally looking up, she smiled.

"I accept, _Captain Swann_." Elizabeth nodded then sent her off to fetch the chambermaid before reentering Teague's room. There on the chair sat the chest of Will Turner, unmoved.

…_and what you want most in this world is to find the chest of Davy Jones. _

_To save Will. _

She couldn't help but chuckle lightly at the irony of it. Who knew the accursed chest would play such a key role in their lives. Running her fingers over the grooves in the lid, she smiled. Yes, she would build her house on the coast where she could watch the horizon for the _Dutchman's_ sails while keeping her husband's heart safe.

_No, not your husband anymore, Elizabeth. You seem to keep forgetting._ She scowled, roughly shaking her head and plopping down in the seat angled towards the opposite chair. _Yes, my husband. And I will be loyal to him and wait just like I promised, just like I should._ When she received no inward response, she waited in silence, save for the dull beat of the heart within the chest to keep her company.

_Yes, a quiet life on land will be just fine. _

* * *

_AN: I survive on feedback so please, share it with me:) Updates soon. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Across the Universe - Chapter 2  
**Author:** Gea / gealuv  
**Disclaimer:** Ze mouse owns it, I swear. And ze beatles own any references to 'Across the Universe'.  
**Rating:** PG - R as time goes on  
**Pairings:** targeted J/E, canon W/E, even some slight B/E if I feel like it  
**Summary:** Jack Sparrow returns to Shipwreck Cove to persuade Elizabeth Swann to help him in the hunt for the fountain of youth. Across the world they go in search of they mystic water in hopes of living forever, while Elizabeth struggles between her loyalties and her heart.  
**Beta: **many thanks to savvysparrowluv**  
**_**Author's Notes:**__ When writing most of this chapter, I was listening to a handful of songs by 'Explosions in the Sky' which contributed greatly to the angst and all around dream-like feeling of this chapter so I apologize if its far too depressing (you can blame the music laughs) though, I'm sure the ending may lighten the mood. _

_**Across the Universe - Chapter 2**_

'_Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind,  
Possessing and caressing me…'_

On the first day, Addison accompanied her new mistress Elizabeth down to the southwest docks of Shipwreck Cove where they met up with the captain of a vessel named the _Damned Damsel_. It was there she watched as her pirate master skillfully persuaded the reluctant captain togrant them passage through the Devil's Throat without so much as a small fuss. This first day as the king's companion held another first for Addison. She had never set foot on a ship until that day which evidently, she had hoped would be her last trip aboard. As Elizabeth scrambled about, assisting the crew with little difficulty, the young girl remained heaving over the rail while struggling to find her sea legs. Casting a glance at Elizabeth who stood at her back, she found her gazing pensively at the shimmering sunlight near the end of the tunnel as they journeyed up the channel. She seemed different to the barmaid. Not the frail woman she'd met in the tavern but instead a fierce leader with a firm stance and determined glare. She seemed sturdier on a ship as if the unchanging sway of the sea granted her more stability than any ground could offer. After a violent battle against the roaring waves that thrashed against the vessel calmed, they reached the open sea, the brackish spray of the ocean sprinkling against their faces to greet them.

Addison fell into step behind Elizabeth as the two thanked the elderly captain and settled into one of the longboats to make their way towards shore. They'd circled the coast on foot as far as the rocky beach would permit before they found a clearing safe enough between the jagged boulders to trek up the cliffs to where the grass bent in the mid afternoon breeze. It was when the sun touched the horizon and painted the skies gold that they happened to stumble upon a plateau nestled amongst the mounds. A distinct smile brightened her mistress' face prior to her exclamation, _"There, Addison! That's where I'll build my house."_

On the second day, Elizabeth had begun her mission to turn her imagined house on the sea cliffs into a reality. She sent Addison on numerous runs to the library to fetch books on bricklaying, carpentry, and every sort of craftsmanship of the home there was until the majestic, oak desk groaned underneath the weight of it all. Flipping the cover over on the first book piled in front of her, she signaled to Addison to do the same for another and begin reading. For what seemed like endless hours the two resided in the vacant apartment studying the text printed on every page in every book as if their very lives depended on it.

It was by the end of the third day, Elizabeth tiredly insisted Addison take her leave to rest but instead, the devoted subject slumped against the doorway and continued thumbing through the pages of books she'd reread nearly twice already. Their reclusive behavior to the room had become so fanatical in fact that the door remained ajar for the maids who brought them their meals firsthand while the women studied in silence. It was nearly midnight when a shadow lingered over the barmaid. When she peered up, she found it to be Captain Teague leaning against the doorframe, peeking in to the disarray of the room. Addison merely stared, watching as his gaze overlooked her slouched form crowded at his feet and instead settled onto Elizabeth who was fully engaged in the script before her. Unnoticed by the king, he left without even a word.

On the fourth morning Addison awoke to find Elizabeth silently leaning out the balcony, her body wrapped in a woolen blanket. She joined at her side and was startled by the sight in the distance. Across from the city by the boundaries of the cove, nearly thirteen men worked to construct a dock at the foot of the cliff. Leading up to the pinnacle were more men who appeared to be chiseling out steps in the rock. "What are they doing?" Addison inquired to the woman bathed in the dawn's light who gazed on with a slight grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"They appear to be building a dock and a pathway to my house."

Teague had arrived at their room that afternoon to speak with the king in private and from what the adolescent could discern from the opposite side of the door, he hadn't much of an explanation. "Does Captain Teague care for you, Captain Swann?" she'd questioned later on in the week as they braided rope to aid the workers who toiled over the construction of the house. Most of the time the workers welcomed the skills they'd acquired, testing how much they had learned and refining their understanding.

"No. His duties lie in aiding the King, and he's sworn to honor his oath. I suppose even the construction of a _house_ for the King falls under that category as well," she had laughed, drawing a smile from the woman sitting opposite her.

It wasn't until a few weeks later that the house was practically finished. To her surprise, nearly all of the population of Shipwreck had lent their aid to the King in some way. From donating materials for the creation of the house or sending provisions for the committed workers, all the citizens made some kind of effort. Whether it was out from the goodness found in their blackened hearts or out of fear of the Keeper though remained to be seen.

During the days they worked and through the nights they gathered around a wooden table that had been built in the kitchen to drink their rum and spin stories of the past. Addison found it strange not having to eavesdrop like she had always done as the men explained their accounts at sea to her face with great illustration. As a child she had always fallen susceptible to the stories her mother had told her of pirates and princesses and of sea monsters and mystics. All she had passed off as myth as she aged, though having such tales return with Elizabeth's arrival into her life, she savored them. Whenever she scanned the crowded kitchen searching for her mistress, she always found her wandering about the room, smiling privately to herself at the elucidations yet avoiding any verbal contact she could. Addison often wondered if Elizabeth was worried her own unanswered past would be accounted for amongst the stories which seemed to keep her estranged from the merriment. It was on one night when only the two women remained to tidy the room that Addison dared to question Elizabeth about her past.

"Captain Swann, I beg your pardon for asking, but I've always wondered… is there any truth to any of the stories?" There was distinct look that masked Elizabeth's face, drawing her away from the house by the sea and beyond the horizon to the far off corners of her memory. In a moment she caught hold of herself, sliding the chest down the length of the table to an unsuspecting Addison who merely blinked at it.

"Truth?" she snapped, motioning to the girl to press her ear to the lid. Addison lowered her head to the chest and started at the thump of the heart that resounded from within.

"No truth at all," Elizabeth muttered, pulling away from the table and heading out the front door, leaving the distraught youth alone with her guilt.

--

Elizabeth stared across the table where the chest was placed opposite her. The reverberating beat locked within it breaking the silence that hung in the air. It troubled her to know that while her husband's heart lay before her, the man who embodied it would stay absent for the next ten years before visiting for a single day before leaving once again.

Resting her chin onto the backside of her hands which lay flat on the table, she studied the chest. Shadows danced across the grooves of the coffer cast by the flickering candlelight from the candelabra next to it. Elizabeth sighed. She had rather wished Teague and Addison wouldn't have left her company so soon but they had spent more than enough time fussing over her already. Besides, having had Teague toil over the build of the abode she presently dwelled in was far more than she could ever ask of him. And selfishly prying a young girl from her steady job and ill mother to do her bidding was beginning to eat away at her morality. Especially bearing in mind the callous way she had handled herself the previous night. She couldn't help but feel slight remorse for how she treated the girl. After all, she'd been just as curious if not more when she had been her age and maybe even still. Perhaps in time she would reveal a figure or memory of her past to the inquiring youth.

Besides, she needed to preserve her relationships with both Teague and Addison as they were all she really had for company now seeing as almost all the people she held dear had detached themselves from her in some way. Her beloved father, her only family, had suffered at the point of Beckett's sword (or was it his pistol his life had ended by, she'd never know). While poor James Norrington's life was cut short for the sake of her welfare. Will's falling into captaincy over the _Dutchman_ for a second chance at life seemed more of dwindling hope for her late husband than anything and Jack…Well, she couldn't deny the envy she harbored for the fact that while he may have been just as alone as she, at least he'd kept his freedom intact to continue sailing. Yes, Jack Sparrow was surely at the helm of the _Black Pearl_, shouting orders across a crowded deck with the sun beating down on him. The horizon which yearned for him to delight in the boundless paths it offered would be beckoning for him to take chase, and he nothing if not eager to obey. It was there, she found, that she would never be for the passage back to her had undoubtedly been lost too long ago to spare a thought to.

Elizabeth frowned. It was time for some rum.

Pulling herself away from the table, Elizabeth rounded the corner and headed straight for the newly built cabinets that lined the wall in the kitchen. She bent down before the farthest one, heaving her skirts up onto her knee to extend an arm inside the inky blackness. She felt around with nimble fingers for a moment before grabbing the neck of one of the bottles and pulling it out.

The only time she drank rum was when she was in Jack's company though she had started to make the exception a few nights prior when Teague had joined her for dinner. Several of his mannerisms reminded her of Jack though having him for a father she supposed it was he who first initiated them.

Elizabeth tugged at the cork wedged at the top of the bottle before she tipped it back into her mouth to be rewarded with nothing but air. Shaking it above her mouth a few times she came to find not even a drop spared for her to drink. Her shoulders sagged hopelessly as she set the bottle down onto the table and slumped in her chair. The rum was undeniably gone.

Lowering her chin to her hands yet again, her gaze fixed onto the empty rum bottle and small chest that lay across from her. She smiled, suddenly remembering how it felt when Will would caress her hand while they wandered along the coast in Port Royal. The childlike kisses he'd place upon her cheeks that forever reminded her of the day he'd been pulled from the water. Or perhaps another sensation so unlike her bond to Will yet so welcoming. The forbidden heat and the intoxicating taste of Jack's mouth upon hers as they melted into one another. A mere glance from him relentlessly bearing into her very soul, coaxing her to life, to _breathe_. It wasn't until she felt her throat tighten and burn that the familiar tinge of salt slipped under her upper lip. It was strange seeing as she hadn't cried since the day she had watched the sails of both ships disappear on the horizon and into the sun...but that was nearly a month ago. For some odd reason though, her tears wouldn't seem to stop. Turning her face into her arms she wept and sobbed until she fell into a deep sleep.

Elizabeth dreamed. She dreamed of the sea breeze whispering across her porcelain skin and the feel of Will's fingers entwined with her own as she leans into him affectionately. They stand at the fort in _Port Royal_ in this illusion of a memory, watching as the sun slips beneath the horizon leaving shadowed wisps across the darkening canvas of sky. Her hair is long and flowing though she finds herself bound in corset and lace. The golden tresses catch in the wind to give her the slightest breath of air that is quickly stolen by the restraint surrounding her. Still, she can hear William whisper his wedding vows against her hair and she can't help but fall to his every whim. But as the night envelopes what little sunlight remains, she can feel him begin to slip away from her. His secure grip cascades to her feet as grains of sand but as she turns to face him, she finds herself no longer in the courtyard but instead somewhere very different.

The tension around her midsection is relieved and the dress she wears is whisked away by the wind until all that is left is her slip. There's a flickering glow in the distance that she starts towards to find herself traveling down a beachside. Of course, because it is merely a dream she is ten steps closer with every stride until finally she comes to meet a man standing before the fire, his back turned. He hums a song that she can't quite remember but can feel the words dribble from her lips and bend in the breeze. "I suppose this is a goodbye of sorts though I for one have never found any _good_ to come of them." He faces her and she can tell by the dwindling firelight which strays through his beaded mane that he is the one who has waited patiently for her. "Seems they always leave you with the misgiving of whether or not the tide will bring you back someday." She wishes she can respond but cannot find the words or the sound that shapes them. Jack simply smiles but his eyes betray him, revealing more sorrow than she has ever beheld. Stretched fingers extend to graze her cheek but she is left with an empty feeling as a tremor passes through her body and blackens her vision.

--

With keen reflexes, Elizabeth jarred from her sleep and raised the knife lying on the table to an alarmed Addison Baker who stepped back in shock. The steel lingered for a moment while she caught her breath before she lowered the weapon and wiped her sweat glazed forehead. "Addison…how did you get in here?" she questioned as she placed the utensil on the table beside her. The young girl trembled, chewing her bottom lip as her fingers traced over her neckline where the blade had nearly scraped. She'd forgotten upon casually tapping her mistress' shoulder of the dangerous pirate Elizabeth actually was. Pacing towards the window to alleviate herself, Addison pulled open the drapes, letting the sunlight pour in.

"I figured you might want some breakfast so I let myself in. I really must insist though that you lock your door in the future, Ms. Swann. Who knows what kind of mongrel could steal into here. Anyway, I saw you were sleeping so I left hours ago only to find you in the same spot! I didn't mean to startle you I just thought you'd want to be wakened to eat. I brought us some hot chocolate – which I admit to stealing from one of the crates that was unloaded on the dock. I don't think they'll mind though since it _was_ taken for the King . I suppose the smartest thing to do though would be to just keep our mouths shut." As the chipper girl blathered on while fluttering around the kitchen, Elizabeth rubbed her aching neck and plopped down into the chair she'd so uncomfortably slumbered in. She rather liked it better when Addison had been afraid of her; it'd been much quieter.

"What time is it?" she asked, shielding her eyes from the shaft of sunlight that struck her spot by the table.

"Why, it's nearly half past noon, Ms. Swann! Do you always sleep the day away?" Addison said with a laugh, the statement sorely reminding Elizabeth of her handmaiden, Estrella, who'd tended to her at the manor in Port Royal. Gathering her teapot in hand, the girl headed for the door. "We seem to have finished the last of the water so I'll have to use the rainwater at the side. I'll go into town later and have Mister Gibbons help me bring up another few casks. You should get dressed. Teague told me to fetch you and bring you to the tavern to meet him there. We'll go after we eat."

Elizabeth merely stared as Addison slammed the recently built, timber door behind her and passed by the window towards the barrels at the side of the house. From the timid, partly-mute woman she'd been when Elizabeth had first met her, Addison had grown out of her shell a fair bit. She smiled to herself, it suited the teen better. Even brought a flush of color to her face when she was finally released from the dingy _White Wench_ she'd been practically imprisoned in for god-knows how long.

Easing herself to her feet, she advanced towards the end of the hall where a pair of doors faced each other. She reached for the doorknob on the door to the left, twisting it open and lingering in the entryway to survey the room. It was dark, the sunlight hidden by the heavy drapes that shrouded the windows and everything seemed still. No, this was not the room she wanted but she'd claimed it as her own the moment the draperies were hung and all outside light was snuffed out like the flame of a candle. It suited her mood more, was her grim realization.

She flopped down onto the bed, heaving a tired sigh. _Teague told me to fetch you…_was what Addison said, hadn't she? Elizabeth sneered. She was not some maid sought to tend to his beck and call. Still, it would be rather snobbish of her to decline his summon after what he had done for her. _I never asked him too, though,_ she considered as she stood. Against the wall was her wardrobe where the dresses Penny, the seamstress of Shipwreck City, had provided her with was.

Rummaging through the garments, she eventually arrived at the end of the rack where her retired, blood stained armor hung. What was practically a month ago seemed like yesterday to the pirate king who had hid away her cutlass in the shadows of what had once been. Whether freedom had existed or been a figment of her imagination, she wasn't sure. The battle had been won though the war still waged on as Shipwreck Cove had become just as it had intended, a refuge to those who know longer wished to test their confines. Unlike the fools who believed in their alleged, infinite freedom. Fools like Jack, fools like..._her_

Elizabeth feverishly heaved the dresses against the oriental garments, panting lightly as they swayed back and forth against the hanger. And at what cost had this _freedom_ been attained? Her father, Will, James, they were all dead now. What had seemed a fanatical dream to Elizabeth as a child had ultimately developed into something very real. For the lives and the loneliness that could have been spared though, she often wished she'd never fallen into the bay that one, fateful morning.

Elizabeth's dress fell around her ankles as she quickly disrobed and shrugged into the dress she'd picked out with the olive-colored skirts and the billowing, pallid sleeves. The outfit was simple enough and comfortable as she needed it to be as she had a few errands to run in town. Closing the door behind her, she headed for the kitchen while pinning her hair back with a pair of ornaments she had found on the _Empress_ when she'd captained her.

When she came into the room, Addison was nudging her way through the door with the teapot in hand, water spewing onto the floor as it swung about. The woman crossed over to the parlor with a smile, crying out some odd remark about the weather before disappearing from sight. Elizabeth turned her gaze to the window above the counter as she begun setting out some biscuits on a plate for the two of them. The blazing ball that hung high up above the house reflected off the sea while some gulls soared in the distance towards the horizon. Her stomach dropped suddenly as she stepped away from the window and set the plate on the table. There, the small trunk and empty rum bottle still remained from the past night, unmoved.

"It should be ready in a moment." Addison's smiling voice shook her from her reverie as she reentered the room and snatched up a biscuit between her fingers. Elizabeth's stare lingered before she wordlessly eased herself into the chair to await the hot beverage, inadvertently eyeing the gulls circling the skies through the window.

It was late that evening when Elizabeth followed the winding streets by the guidance of lanterns to the port where her longboat waited. She marched towards the dinghy tied up to one of the pillars at the far end of the dock, muttering irritably to herself as she passed through the vacant area. That afternoon she had gone to the bar to meet with Teague just as Addison had instructed, only to be shocked to find a crowd of people already gathered inside. Nearly three hours passed as the convened swarm lectured her about her payments for having had them toil over her house which came at a cost that no gold could satisfy. It was soon made clear through the boisterous shouting that her isolated behavior from the city had in fact slighted them. It was true, she had to admit, that she wanted nothing to do with anything or anyone. But no, she must be taught to converse and identify with those who whispered in her presence about the life she had led and the events she had partook in. Those who spun lies of the relationships she'd built or the accursed kisses she had dealt. This was the duty of the king that she had not been familiar with and that greatly reminded her of her life in Port Royal. Elizabeth forcefully denied on the account that she owed them nothing if not pity for cowering in fear of the Keeper who was seated in the corner, tuning the guitar on his lap. Many times she had turned her gaze upon him to find his face impassive but his eyes bearing down upon hers. She felt as if she'd been tricked by the old man as he stared at her wordlessly offering no assistance to her dire situation. The only reason the people had agreed to help in the first place was because they were frightened of Teague's wrath, falling to his every whim. _If anyone was meant to be king it should have been him!_

Clutching her shawl closer to her shoulders, she stepped into the longboat and untied it from the post. It was difficult to see by the flickering lamplight at the end of the dinghy, but she soon found herself clear of any obstacles rowing towards the small quay beside the cliff. It usually took a good half of an hour to reach the opposite side of the bay and another to venture up the steps to the top of the cliff. She didn't mind though, as it gave her a sense of triumph nearly every time. After tying off the boat, Elizabeth unhooked the lantern and carried it in front of her as she started up the steps. It was rather breezy that night as the yellowy glow that emitted from the candle sputtered constantly and began to elude her from the path. Elizabeth grabbed at the rocks, continuing forward as she climbed higher and higher. Her breath hitched as the whistling of the wind grew louder in her ear until suddenly her light source vanished. Cussing lightly, she leaned against the cliff, blinded by darkness. From the distance she'd gone, Elizabeth calculated her best chance was to keep moving up as there was a better likelihood of reaching her home than there was the dock below. Once placing the lamp on the stair, she hiked on, the cliff side as her guide. Finally, there was no wall left to hold to as she'd reached the hilltop. As she took a step forward into what she hoped was long grass, she misjudged the ledge of the cliff and fell face-first to the ground. There was a sharp sting that cut across her forehead that seemed to dull as her consciousness faded into black.

--

"Is she still asleep?"

"I believe so but she was always so good at fooling me that I've always found it difficult to tell."

Elizabeth tossed her head back and forth against the pillow beneath her when the familiar voices woke her from her daze. Her face felt hot but she found she wasn't sweating and it wasn't until she opened her eyelids that her eyes began to burn and tear. Though whether it'd been from her peculiar fever or what was before her seemed questionable. At the foot of her bed, James Norrington was perched, his arms linked around his bent knees with his bare feet crossed at the ankles. Beside him, her father sat at the edge, absent of his powdered wig along with James.

The woman simply stared at the two in utter disbelief, afraid to make any sort of movement as if it might jar her from such a dream. They seemed different, she noted. Whether it was James' disheveled, auburn hair or the scruff on his chin or the slack garments and commoners' breeches they both wore, there most simply put seemed something _happier_.

"We were wondering if you were ever going to wake up," James remarked with a look of mock-stern. Yes, there was something in the former Commodore's face, she concluded, that, bathed in the growing sunlight, looked rugged and content. Something she had never quite seen before yet felt very familiar. When Elizabeth still could not find the words to respond, he cast a look of concern to her father.

"Elizabeth dear, is everything alright?" he asked, gently patting her leg hidden beneath the blanket. She trembled at the contact. His hand, she'd felt it.

Without hesitation, Elizabeth threw back the sheets and seized her father in her arms, sobbing against his shoulder as his hands lovingly cradled her against him. It must have been real, she thought, as she could smell the tinge of brandy on his scent. There was something else there too, she found. It was a type of perfume that she never knew her father to have worn before. It was exotic, untamed even which strangely reminded her of Jack. This wasn't the same domesticated governor who had remained within the confines of his security almost all of his life. This was instead the man whom had fallen in love with an aspiring actress and taken her as his wife despite his family's protest. The man who had assisted to conceive a reckless daughter destined to lead hundreds against thousands all in the name of freedom.

Dragging the back of her hand across her eyes, Elizabeth pulled away from her father who in turn held her at arms length. She sniffled, turning her attention to other man who had risen and stood a few feet away from them. He pulled a smile before she eased herself off the bed and flooded into his embrace. It felt right to be held by just James and not the rigid _Commodore_. It was not Commodore Norrington who had released her from the brig that day, it was James. He had been the one to do the right thing regardless of the distinguished title that had been bestowed upon him for a second time. She smiled against his chest, she could still remember the taste of his lips right before he had…

"But, you're both dead," she uttered, swiftly backing away from James and facing the two men who exchanged a look between one another. Her father's eyes scoured the bed sheets as he smoothed out the folds and replied,

"Yes, that seems to be the case."

"We wanted to see you, Elizabeth." James explained as he took a step towards the young woman who refused to return the gesture. "You took quite a tumble out by the steps. I believe you've fallen into a rather a deep sleep."

"So, how did I end up back…wherever this is?" The bedroom looked familiar but she couldn't quite tell. There seemed to be many things she couldn't quite place here.

"We're not entirely sure. When you lost consciousness we were permitted a chance to see you," her father said while she settled back onto the bed.

"So, this is a dream, then?" she questioned.

"I suppose you could call it that," James replied as he leaned against the window sill.

Elizabeth sank back into the feathered pillows as she examined the ceiling with unnecessary care. So nothing had changed, really. Although she should be at least happy that she was allowed to see them both again.

"I'm so sorry, father. I shouldn't have run off and left you with Beckett," she sobbed after scuttling across the bed like a small child, taking her fathers hand into her own. His surprised expression turned to the tender grin that she had missed so much since the day the rope had slipped from the longboat. His other hand settled on top of hers as he affirmed,

"My dear, if you had not been the clever child I know you to be and left Port Royal, who knows what might have come about."

"But, I should have been there for you. I could have rescued you." With this, he gave a jovial laugh that for a moment made Elizabeth's heart skip a beat. It was as if she had forgotten where they were and that he was really gone.

"You were always so willful, Beth. You reminded me more of your mother with every day that passed." The same sadness that had always appeared in her father's eyes when he spoke of her mother returned. He began to brush away wisps of golden hair from her face and curled then behind her ear as if she were a child again.

"Have…have you spoken with her?" Elizabeth dared to ask, minding the way her father's dotting gestures slowed considerably. There was a flicker of something she could not quite read in her father's expression before it disappeared as he smiled and heaved a tired sigh.

"I have. She is as beautiful as ever." Elizabeth mirrored his smile as he looked down at their clasped hands. "You know ever since she died, everything I had ever remembered of her seemed to dwindle. Her smile or her eyes, or the way she danced along the beach beneath the moonlight. She never realized I was watching her as the waves forever scattered across her bare feet.

"I had forgotten all this when I was alive, all but her laugh. The most wonderful sound I had ever heard, my child. You see, it was her laugh that had drawn me to her from across a crowded room and lead me to the striking woman dressed in borrowed silk with coiffed, golden hair. When I saw her, I knew I would never love any woman the same way again."

Elizabeth felt a hot tear pace itself down her cheek as she listened to her father's tale of his meeting her mother. Why hadn't they ever spoken about her like this when he was alive? She hardly know a thing of her mother seeing that her father rarely spoke of their past. Neither had she the chance at furthering her relationship with her considering her mother had died when she was well into her seventh year. Only fleeting memories between the two came and went like the flutter of a bird's wings.

Before she could speak, her father turned to James who lounged across the davenport in the corner with his hands clasped behind his head.

"I'm afraid it's about time we take our leave, James," her father insisted. The man scratched his beard for a moment before rising to his feet.

"I suppose we should then," he conceded while Elizabeth scrambled to an upright position.

"Wait! Where are you going? Why don't you just stay longer? I don't want to be left here alone," she pleaded, grabbing onto her friend's arm. Both merely grinned and after her father kissed her forehead, James did the same. His hands rubbed the sides of her arms reassuringly and he replied,

"We have to return, they'll be expecting us back. Besides, it's time for you to wake up."

--

Elizabeth opened her eyes. Above her was the familiar, dark ceiling of her bedroom. Sitting upright, her head began to throb from an ache that had not been there earlier. Her fingertips lightly traced over her forehead where bandages dressed part of her brow where the pain emitted from. Elizabeth gazed around the room. There was no sunlight pouring in through the open window, no James reclining in the corner, no smell of brandy or nameless fragrances. She frowned; there were absolutely no traces of the reverie.

There was, however, a crackling in the air that seemed to be coming from the kitchen. Sniffing, she realized whomever had rescued her from the steps must have been cooking breakfast. It ought to have been Addison, Elizabeth thought as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was still dressed in the same attire she'd worn though, and Addison surely would have removed her clothes. She began taking off the dress that was stained from her fall in the mud until all that that remained was her slip. Perhaps Addison had been too tired from carrying her unconscious body from the field that she simply couldn't find the strength to change her clothes. Whatever the case, Elizabeth slipped on her nightdress and followed the delectable scent down the hall towards the kitchen.

"Addison, you have no idea how grateful I am to have you. I'm usually not one to be so clumsy but I seem to have--," she began to call out to the young girl before reaching the room, only to come across someone who was unmistakably _not _the young barmaid.

There, standing over her stove with a pan in his grasp, clad in breeches, an off-white tunic and her cooking apron tied at his waist, he turned to her and smirked.

"Mornin', love."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Across the Universe - Chapter 3  
**Author:** Gea / gealuv  
**Disclaimer:** Ze mouse owns it, I swear. And ze beatles own any references to 'Across the Universe'.  
**Rating:** PG - R as time goes on  
**Pairings:** predominately J/E, canon W/E, even some slight B/E if I feel like it  
**Summary:** Jack Sparrow returns to Shipwreck Cove to persuade Elizabeth Swann to help him in the hunt for the fountain of youth. Across the world they go in search of they mystic water in hopes of living forever, while Elizabeth struggles with her loyalties and her heart.  
**Beta: **many splendid thanks to savvysparrowluv**  
**_**Author's Notes:**__ I really like the way this chapter came out though I would have liked more interaction. Oh well, there's still plenty of time for that. _

_To my sudden dread, I've come to realize how much of an idiot I am that I hadn't spared a thought to when the cast-iron stove had been invented/refined. It wasn't until the early 1800s, so I've found out, that the stove had turned for cooking purposes but I suppose this will have to do. My apologies._

_**Across the Universe - Chapter 3**_

'_Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes,  
They call me on and on across the universe…'_

One month and four days. Jack was certain it had been that long since he had last lain eyes on her. He hadn't meant to keep count but found his mind was far quicker than he imagined – which admittedly left him slightly proud. Nevertheless, since the day they'd parted he never really thought of seeing her again. _Hoped_ though, well, that was a given but he'd decided the entire idea seemed asinine as there was little chance of them crossing paths again. Passed onto him by word of mouth, he'd overheard the famed pirate King had settled down at Shipwreck Cove, a place he undoubtedly wished never to return. Deciding he could do without another discomfited run-in with Teague, he found no reasonable motive for seeing her again. So, he'd washed his hands of the woman, left only with her ethereal presence in his dreams and the fleeting hope of happening upon her again some day.

Yet there he stood before her, her cooking apron tied at his waist and a pan coated with egg in his grip. Even after his rather lighthearted greeting, which was purely based on reaction alone, she didn't seem to move. He awkwardly placed the pan down, wiping his hands on the cloth that hung down across his breeches and breathed. Her mouth was a gape and by the glassy coat over her eyes, he thought she looked as if she were on the verge of tears. He swallowed thickly as the silence hung in the air.

"Jack…What are you doing here?" she seemed to choke out, her voice cracking slightly as she spoke. He noted the delicate shudder in her stance and wondered if she were planning to embrace him. She seemed to refrain, though.

"Thought I'd pop in for a visit, see how the missus was doing in her _humblest of humble_ abodes," he said, finding his words and the nerve to force them.

The trace of sarcasm found in his tone was backed by the scrutinizing glimpse he gave about the room. It was far larger than any typical house a middle class citizen would keep and the fixtures it held were extravagant in fashion. By the Persian rug and French-style settee in the parlor he was quick to assume Shipwreck's citizens had sacrificed their best of ill-assorted furniture for their King to please her. With such a fierce temper and newly carved reputation for madness on the high seas, she very well ruled without even the need for a title.

"Surely, you were mistaken that I would be inclined to entertain or even _welcome_ company this morning," she hissed, her forlorn appearance misplaced as she evenly challenged him like she'd always done when they had their verbal spars.

"_Surely_ one can see that."

His gaze fell over her shapeless figure dressed in her thin nightie as he gave a lazy grin. If whatever relationship they shared was too unhinged to have even an ordinary reunion, Jack figured he'd humor her.

With a slight blush, Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. Jack considered how much he'd craved to see that defiant pout once more since he'd last seen her. It hadn't been very long since then but having her face etched so vividly in his mind he had often wondered on those blistering days at sea whether she'd been just another figment of his bizarre hysteria.

"How did you even get in here?" she huffed, pacing over towards the stove to inspect what he'd been cooking. Two folded, golden eggs dusted with brown at the edges hissed against the grease at the bottom of the pan.

"The door is always useful, 'specially when it's unlocked. You should really learn to bolt it shut, you know," he remarked as he untied the knot of the apron and carelessly draped it over the backs of one of the chairs.

Elizabeth snorted lightly.

"Yes, you never know what kind of _mongrel_ could steal into here."

His lips twisted into a wicked grin as he watched her lean against the cupboard with her arms still guarding her chest. Of course she would still shy away from him when the occasion called. It was only when they were close enough that his hot breath fell upon her that her body would betray her and lean into him. Still, that was before when she was still branded as Elizabeth _Swann_ and not _Mrs. Turn-_

"Well," he swiftly rose to his feet, "I believe our meal is ready. I'm sure this conversation can hold off until we eat. How's about we set the table, shall we?"

He could feel her hawk eye follow him with suspicion as he swaggered past her to the daintily carved cabinet at the far side of the kitchen. He carefully pulled it open and sorted through the fine china that had been used for naught before he neatly swept a pair of plates onto the table. Her mouth dropped open then shut as if she were about to object.

"Of course you'd agree that having such an exceptional guest like myself would be reason enough for use of such equally, exceptional tableware. Besides, I think they deserve a chance once in a while."

She wordlessly rolled her eyes before he disappeared into the parlor for a moment to fetch one of the iron candelabras he'd spotted earlier. He evaded the settee pulled up to the low table and leaned over to grab the neck, letting out an annoyed grunt when he nearly tripped over a footstool. As he returned to the other room, he found Elizabeth dispensing pieces of cutlery besides the dishware on the table.

"I never knew the infamous _Captain_ Jack Sparrow could even cook," she remarked as he began to guide the egg with a fork from the pan to the first plate. She began pouring a canteen of water into the kettle she'd grabbed from the top shelf when he shifted the second plate.

"Can also boil, roast, and grill too but only on the rare occasion that some rather famished cannibals decide I, in all actuality, _be_ the one to boil, roast and or grill." He pulled a slight frown before he glanced up at her, seeing the smile spread across her face as she cleared away the canteen. As he neatly sidestepped her in the cramped kitchen area, he returned the pan to the cooling element while she skillfully maneuvered around him. On his way to the table, he was suddenly struck dumb by her words.

"The rum is gone."

The words were swift, like an unexpected breeze that drew Jack to a place in time he wished to be back at again. _Faint laughter is swallowed by the hush sound of the waves, he struggles to free himself of her smoldering gaze and clear the pounding of blood in his ears that is perhaps caused from something more than that of a drunken haze…_

He cleared his throat, regaining composure as she continued, "I'm making some tea, though I don't believe that that's of any interest to you. I meant to restock the cellar the other day but I seemed to have gotten caught up, instead."

There was something hidden behind the shade of her eyes, a nip of malice, it seemed, from a private recollection of her day prior. He didn't press.

"Tea will be fine, love. A refined gentleman like me self ought to spoil in life's many splendors every now and again," was his snooty reply accompanied by a gesture of his hand and the upturn of his nose to the ceiling. Elizabeth sighed then left the room; noticeably weary of the mocking blows.

He couldn't help but scold her for what he saw as the restored rearing of a governor's daughter and not the King of Pirates. It was evident though from the affluent fixtures and the ostentatious size of the house that it had all been for show. She obviously hadn't concerned herself with any of it as the china, like he'd remarked earlier, had not been used and the furnishings were pulled out of place. The parlor alone was littered with books and emptied cups stained with spots of tea while the fireplace was piled so high with soot that it speckled the edges of the carpet. The basin in the kitchen was stacked with filthy plates and there seemed to be an abundant amount of emptied rum bottles scattered about that both intrigued and worried him. Even her bedroom which he'd noted earlier when he had carried her unconscious body to rest in her bed was littered with clothing. He smirked, apparently she'd never been taught during her upbringing of how to tend to household chores.

She reentered the room and settled into the chair opposite him. He observed her for a moment as she absently smoothed a napkin over her lap and scraped her chair across the floor. The etiquette she'd been cultured with as a child hadn't seemed to have left her and he assumed never would were she to stay cooped up in her house on the hill.

With a slight glance at one another, they began to eat.

"So, I'm to suppose you're the one that found me near the steps," she muttered, breaking the ever frequent silence that accompanied them. Her chin was practically pressed against her chest as she attempted to hide her face from view all while trying to cut her food at the same time. Jack broke off a piece of his own egg with the side of his fork. He stared at it for a moment, a glimpse of a memory in the Locker impelling him to dispel of it by pushing the food into his mouth.

"Out cold. Never would have found you if it weren't for that auspicious canine with the keys that followed me up here." He chewed thoughtfully, suddenly craving some rum to accompany his meal.

"How did you even know where I lived?"

"You're the King of the Brethren Court, Lizzie. I imagine your faith in your subjects isn't so slight that you'd not think at least one fool amongst a crowded tavern could point me in the right direction."

"Fools indeed," she scoffed, staring off into nothing as she was suddenly captured by her own inner musings. She bit off some of the egg skewered on her fork before the shrill whistle sounded from the kettle in the other room.

After they'd finished their meal and Elizabeth had poured their tea, they cleared the table and sat sipping from their dainty china cups; _another _gesture of good taste he'd insisted upon devoted solely to his _praised,_ unexpected arrival.

"I see you've quite broken into your new home." He draped an arm over the back of his chair, angling himself to survey the view of parlor that could be seen across the hall. There appeared to be papers gathered at the foot of the low table that he hadn't noticed earlier. Evidently, neither had she.

"I've been up here for a few weeks, now. There's a bit of a draft at times but it's nothing to complain about. The scenery is beautiful to look at." she nipped her tea, "Everything is lovely up here." But her smile was too forced and her tone too shrill. As if she were struggling to delude one of the many suitors her father would have arranged for her to meet into thinking they stood a chance.

"Fair enough…" he muttered behind the lip of the teacup.

"So, I assume the_ Pearl's_ docked at port," she deviated from the previous subject. He stirred slightly in his seat before setting the empty cup back onto the table.

"I wouldn't know." He reached for a biscuit, fully aware of the curious look she gave him from across the table.

"What do you mean you _wouldn't know_? You do still captain her, do you not?"

"Always and never."

Elizabeth's stare lingered for a moment before she eased back against her chair and gave a tired, almost sad smile.

"You lost her again, didn't you, Jack?" Her words were a notch above a pity-filled whisper which sent a searing streak of heat ripping through his body. He swallowed the bits of biscuit left in his mouth as his expression altered.

"No, no. You see, love, _lost_ would imply that a fair fight ensued in which the superior captain lucked out when in fact, she was _stolen_ right from under me like usual."

For the moment, he allowed the hostility to wash over him before regaining composure. She simply folded her hands on her lap and shrugged.

"I'm sure you'll get her back. You always seem to."

He drew back in surprise. Where was the dicey quip? The fierce lioness waiting behind the flawless face? This wasn't the same woman he'd known and become so fond of. The mischievous light in her eyes was gone and replaced by a dull flicker. Why was she so distant, so impassive?

And suddenly he thought of the chest.

The last he'd seen it was clutched in the hands of one crusty-looking crewmate of the _Dutchman_, awaiting the stilled heart of the late William Turner the 2nd. He remembered hauling her away from the sight and seeing how still she kept as she watched the crowd forming around her husband across the ship. The painful glimmer he saw in her eyes while he had scrambled to collect the pistol from the deck awash with the rainwater and sea. The instant Bootstrap lifted the knife above his head he had curled an arm around her waist, tearing her stunned gaze away from the ghastly sight. Soon after, they were flying. The swan and the sparrow whisked away towards the horizon for what seemed like their only moment of peace, together.

Jack cleared his throat of the tension that had formed there. He watched Elizabeth intently, admiring the thin line of gold that outlined her figure as she faced her back towards window. The flecks of emerging sunlight which strayed beyond her warmed his face and faintly blurred his vision of her. She looked like a goddess, appearing to him in a vision, serene and weary. It was in that moment he felt he could taste her pain, shared in all she'd undergone and all she had lost. It was as if they were flying again, her face pressed against his heart as she searched for comfort.

As he opened his mouth to speak, he was suddenly startled as the door to the kitchen swung open.

* * *

Early that morning before the sun had even appeared on the horizon, Addison awoke from her sleep from an unusual thumping sound which resounded in her head. At first she'd thought someone had been banging at the door. Then, thought it had even been her mother in the bordering room, restless in her sleep. But soon she came to realize the pounding was not from either but instead coming from her own head, further recognizing it as the same sound she'd heard from the chest. 

The young girl eased herself back against her pillow, recalling the icy stillness that chased each beat as the organ hid in the shadows of its confinement. She struggled to picture the heart in her minds eye but was left with a distorted figure. Addison puckered her brow. If there were only some way to see it with her own eyes...no, there was no likelihood that Elizabeth would ever allow it. She sighed; there was no chance of her ever revealing _any_ part of her past to her.

_Perhaps though…_

Addison left her bed in a hurry, quickly changing into one of the dresses strewn over the chair in the corner as devious thoughts formulated in her mind. If she could simply take a small look into the chest _herself_, what damage could be done? What her mistress didn't know could not hurt her as Addison would draw a bath for her to take while she searched for a key. It probed her curiosity to no end hearing the hushed whispers throughout the city whenever she passed through. None having the nerve to gossip in her presence due to the tie she shared with the King as her handmaiden. No more could she rely on the hearsay of the citizens and with Elizabeth's halt to her questioning, she felt there was no other alternative.

_Yes_, Addison decided as she fastened the lock on the door to her home and started down the rickety gangplank towards the city core, _an innocent peek would do no harm_.

Pacing the winding, makeshift streets built from ruined deck and aged boardwalk, she passed by the shops and open markets. Every now and again glancing at the bottled goods and choking on the pungent stench of fish as she hurried on. Eventually she reached the pier side where myriads of men bustled about under the preface of daybreak, unloading freight and discussing trade while the thin girl slipped neatly by them. Addison made her way towards one of the longboats tied up near the end of the dock where two mammoth vessels loomed over them. With slight intimidation, she settled into the insipid boat and began to row past the two hulls on either side of her.

Once she'd reached the small platform at the opposite side of the cove, she tied off the boat beside another and started up the stairs. As she hiked along, she stopped to retrieve an abandoned lantern on one of the steps before finally arriving at the top of the cliff. Addison gazed out to the sea while she walked through the mud-spattered grass, basking in the morning splendor of the golden hue of the sky against the fading grey. A streak of light glowed across the horizon as the sun slowly ascended from beneath the deep. She had never seen anything like it, trapped since birth at the pit of the cove that permitted only the slightest sheet of gold from sunup or sundown to kiss the peaks of the surrounding cliff walls. Had Elizabeth not appointed her as aid, she may never have been granted a chance to see past her limitations. She smiled as she turned the knob to the front door and entered through the hall, suddenly wishing to thank her mistress.

But all preceding thoughts seemed to wane as she stumbled into the kitchen where, sitting opposite Elizabeth who smiled warmly at her as she entered, was a man. He was lounged against his chair, legs kicked out beneath the table, an arm draped languidly across the back. His rich, umber eyes were rimmed with kohl, his bronzed face and partly exposed chest glistening from the heat. A tousled mane of hair settled around his shoulders while his brow was dressed with a claret tinted headscarf. She noticed that combed through his braided and matted hair were peculiar ornaments that she'd only seen Captain Teague wear in such familiar fashion before. The man looked unkempt, exotic and captivating to the eye.

"Addison, you're here early. I'd like you to meet Jack Sparrow," Elizabeth began as she courteously stood and gestured towards him. Addison turned her gaze on the man, concealing a slight gasp. Jack seemed to jump at her mistress' words, flying to his feet before Addison and capturing her hand between his own.

"That would be _Captain_ Jack Sparrow," he amended after he'd kissed it, peering up at her through long eyelashes. She turned a sheet of pink before instantly catching sight of her mistress who rolled her eyes in their direction. She coyly returned her hand to her side, remembering the lewd stories she'd heard of the legendary pirate lord.

"My name is Addison Baker and it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister Sparrow," she said, watching the pained look on his face as he shook his head and smirked.

"Again, that's _Captain_ Sparrow, darling. And you've heard of me, have you, now?"

"Oh, of course I have!" Addison cried as she pulled back a chair and joined Jack as he reclaimed his seat at the table. Elizabeth lingered in place for a moment, watching the exchange closely before taking a seat. "You should hear all the stories that come through the _White Wench_ about the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow and his ship,_ The Black Pearl_. Ye' know, I always wondered whether it was actually true that you braved the terrifying Kraken like they all say you did."

At this, Jack's gaze settled on Elizabeth as he gave her a wicked grin, his eyes flickering with something she couldn't quite discern. Elizabeth, on the other hand, suddenly turned pale. Flying back from the table, Elizabeth jumped to her feet, cutting him short before even a sound escaped him.

"Well, I think it's about time I go and dress," she said as she headed for the door with great haste.

"Oh, Ms Swann would you rather me draw you a bath instead? I brought up some more basins the other day to set over the fire," Addison offered as she rushed to her feet and gestured towards the cupboards. Elizabeth's questioning gaze passed over her and rested on Jack who lifted his hands in the air and rose, seemingly catching her indication.

"Well, I should be off, have a few stops to make for the day –,"

"You're leaving Shipwreck already?" Elizabeth nipped as she staggered towards him. She caught herself though, pressing her lips together to form a thin line. A crimson color stained her cheeks from the shame of her pleading tone. Jack just smiled at her affectionately.

"No, not straight away as my incomparable, withstanding vessel needs some tending to. I suppose I'll find a room at the tavern to stow away in for a few days."

"There's a spare room that you can stay in here," Addison happily supplied before silencing herself after the scathing look her mistress granted her. Jack turned his smile onto her.

"I suppose I'll be back tonight, then. That is if _Ms_ Swann so desires." And there seemed to be something hidden behind his suave tone, something_ indecent_. Something a girl of her age couldn't entirely comprehend. Addison watched as Elizabeth glared at him, never having seen her mistress' face so red.

"Tonight, then," she conceded with a careless nod that was defied by her snapping tone. He nodded, his smirk still remaining as she spun on her heel and swiftly exited the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Across the Universe - Chapter 4  
**Author:** Gea / gealuv  
**Disclaimer:** Ze mouse owns it, I swear. And ze beatles own any references to 'Across the Universe'.  
**Rating:** PG - R as time goes on  
**Pairings:** predominately J/E, canon W/E, even some slight B/E if I feel like it  
**Summary:** Jack Sparrow returns to Shipwreck Cove to persuade Elizabeth Swann to help him in the hunt for the fountain of youth. Across the world they go in search of they mystic water in hopes of living forever, while Elizabeth struggles with her loyalties and her heart.  
**Beta: **praises to savvysparrowluv!**  
**_**Author's Notes:**__ I know things seem slow right now but I promise they will pick up in the next chapter. We won't be landlocked for long…_

_**Across the Universe - Chapter 4**_

'_Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box …'_

The wood was grainy, with a slight polish atop its surface from what Addison could tell, standing with her nose to the timber of the door. Beneath her palm, the brass doorknob remained still and unchanged. This was the last room. She'd investigated every other nook and cranny possible when Jack had departed and Elizabeth had settled into her bath. Hours spent rummaging through private belongings and peeking under furniture had still led to no trace of the chest or key in question. Now, all that remained was the unopened door which guarded the forbidden room before her.

She peered down to the shaft of sunlight that spilled beneath the slit at the base of the door, lighting the tips of her shoes. She found it rather strange that she had never set foot in this particular room even when it was being built. Her mistress nearly always spared a glance to the doorway whenever she passed through the hall. Perhaps out of respect, the young girl had refrained from entering though with her curiosity now at its peak, she simply couldn't resist.

Twisting the knob, Addison took a step forward, shielding her eyes from the sheet of light that washed over the room. It nearly empty inside save for the heavily upholstered chair wedged in the corner next to an aged, wooden drawer. Already a layer of dust had gathered on the table top while silk cobwebs stretched out in the corners of the window sill. Moreover, in the room lay what she had been searching for so diligently. There, placed on a stand beneath a streak of light, waited the mythical chest.

Approaching the table, Addison ran her fingers over the arch of the lid, meticulously studying the carved hearts and winding tentacles with her eyes before her thumb lightly brushed over a key hole. _The key…_

She stepped over to the drawer and pulled it open. Within it, creased sheets of paper covered with scribbled text lined the bottom of the bin. The young girl huffed impatiently, sifting through the parchment to find anything remotely akin to metal. In the heat of her frustration, she snatched up the letters in her hands and threw them onto the floor, collapsing in the chair a few moments afterward. There, Addison sat watching bits of dust gleam in the white light coming down through the window pane, following their descent to the floor. It was then that she spotted the scrawled words,

_I had never expected to be spending my wedding day feeling as forgotten as the isle I stood on, watching as the flash of green stole you away._

She leaned forward, taking the parchment into her hands.

_But this letter isn't meant to act as a cruel reminder of what fate has taken from us. Instead, I felt it would be best to record my sincerest feelings to you, my beloved husband, as Davy and Calypso before us. The revulsion I harbor for the accursed captain tamed by overwhelming compassion for the position you find yourself in. I only wish I would have been permitted to share the burden though I'm convinced being allowed with you aboard the Dutchman would have been too kind for fate's hand to tolerate._

_Through the nights I am alone, I find myself constantly thinking back on our first, failed wedding day. I remember the iciness of the rain that had seeped through my dress and wrinkled the silks that father had spent so much time and wealth acquiring for me. I remember waiting for you to come and take me as your bride. You never did and I was angry and concerned all the same until I came to learn the part the EITC played. I think it's only fair I admit to you that I cared not for the porcelain dishware or the elegant costumes we wore but because you seemed so keen on it all, I kept silent. I've never cared for it, Will, and if I'm to be so bold as to say I believe the only reason you strived for such propriety was to please my father. You were trying to fit into a place you were never meant to be in. We were never destined for the high society of Port Royal or anyplace for that matter and I dread the thought of how our lives might have resulted if things had gone according to plan. The life of an aristocrat was not one that I wished for us, though in the same breath, I don't think you ever wished for the life of a pirate either._

_Subsequent to these thoughts, I recall our second wedding that, showered with rainfall this time due to the maelstrom, was absent of the proper dress or fine china and replaced with filthy pirate garb and marriage vows hindered by sweeping swordplay. A ceremony that one could hardly believe to be a wedding though beautiful just the same. One brought on by the heat of passion and surrender. One I believed would never have come about had you not sacrificed your duty as a son to be with me. Which leads to my upsetting confession that I feel I must share with you…_

Addison hastily flipped the sheet over but found it to be blank. Shuffling through the papers on the floor, she picked up another and began to read.

'_He's in your charge now' my father had said to me about you more than ten years ago though I can still feel the warmth of his hand on my shoulder. We'd set sail for the Caribbean from Portsmouth but a few weeks prior when I'd spotted you atop the flotsam drifting in the water alongside the _Dauntless_. I'm afraid now, though, that you are out of my care. Slipping through my fingers like the surf in my hands whenever I try to hold it. _

_As a child, I read stories filled with the romanticism of the fearsome captain returning home from the sea to the wife awaiting him with open arms. But our story is unlike any other and I fear you will return naught but once every ten years and I will not be here __waiting__ when you do. I was never like the woman in the stories, the one who tended to the babes and waited unwearyingly for the homecoming of another. I'm an impatient woman, Will, and a harsh one at times that it makes me wonder how or why you ever tolerated me._

_Calypso told me once that the path I walked was one that had been traveled before though I paid no attention to what she'd meant until the day the world ended. I found myself standing on an island, alone with a chest. The chest that now belongs to you with the heart that you vowed had always been mine. I sometimes close my eyes and wish when I hear the beat of your heart within that it is the warmth of your chest I can feel against my cheek and not the cold tinge of metal. But you're not here and that seems to be something I cannot cope with. It frightens me that one day I might find the strength to move on and I will not be able to stay here and wait for you. _

_Sometimes I dream I fall into the sea and have the tide bring me to you. But __he__ someone always seems to pull me out before I am able to take a breath of the brine._

Addison turned her gaze on the chest above her before she collected the rest of the papers into a pile that she stuffed into the bodice of her dress. Getting to her feet, she hurried from the room and to the kitchen where she retrieved a knife that had been left on the table. For a moment, she thought she'd heard shuffling in the other room but decided it had merely been Elizabeth shifting in her bath water. She rushed down the hall with as little noise as the floorboards would permit and returned to the sunlit room. Addison headed straight for the chest, the blade in hand.

A few minutes passed as the young girl struggled with lock, slipping the edge of the knife into the slot while jiggling it about to have it open. It was difficult considering there was more than one hole, as if two keys were needed but stubbornly, she persisted. She cursed herself when she spotted the white marks she'd made with the sharp edge around the top keyhole but continued on with little worry. She even tried pulling on the lid while the point scratched the inside, struggling to find release but was left with equal frustration through her endeavors.

"And with great haste, Pandora removed the golden shackles and pulled back the lid so as to satisfy the _unbearable_ curiosity bubbling within her."

Addison stiffened at the voice from behind her, her fist that was closed around the handle of the knife slowly freeing it from its grip. She turned on her heel, facing the man leaned up against the doorway with arms crossed. His expression seemed impassive though she could tell by the glint in his eye that he was anything but pleased.

"I…" she began, devising some fantastical lie in her mind that never made it to her lips as he appeared before she could form another word. He leaned into her, his warm breath heavy against her neck causing a shudder to pass through her. As quick as it had came though, the heat from him was gone as he backed away from her to reveal the knife clasped neatly between his fingers. She steadied her footing as he dangled the blade between her eyes.

"Best not to sail in uncharted waters, wouldn't you say, love?" he said, his voice low and menacing. Addison swallowed thickly, watching as the steel briefly hid a kohl rimmed eye as it passed back and forth before her nose. She nodded a little and Jack removed the knife from her face. He glanced over to the opened drawer then back to the girl who blinked at him, dumbfounded.

He took a step back from her, casting a questioning look to her as he held out an opened palm. Quickly reaching into her bodice, she revealed the letters, refusing to look him in the eye as he sorted them between his hands.

"You're not going to tell Ms. Swann, are you?" she blurted suddenly, turning her gaze on him as he tore his eyes away from the writing in front of him. A smug grin tugged at his lips that contorted his expression in such a way that she actually felt as if he might have shot her right then and there.

"Truthfully, I don't think it be my place as I am simply a guest of Captain Swann's. Though if I were in your position, Miss Baker, I wouldn't allow myself in proximity of my mistress' private belongings ever again. Wouldn't want to risk the temptation, now would we?"

Again, Addison nodded, this time an invisible load weighing down onto her chest that made her eyes tear.

The man she'd met earlier had changed dramatically in the face of invasion of her mistress' privacy. There was no laughter on his lips or a strange wobble to his step. Instead, there was a stern glint in his eyes that she was afraid to look into and an odd aura about him that made her feel as if she'd shrunk to the size of a mouse. Why should he care so much for Elizabeth? From half the stories she'd heard, Captain Sparrow was selfish, egotistical and in all frankness, seemed heartless.

'_You're spinning lies, wench. It be that madcap Sparrow who took out his heart and gave it to the king. Said something bout livin' forever without it, I think.' _

And again, the cogs in the impressionable girl's mind began to work. Perhaps there was more than met the eye to Captain Sparrow. Perhaps there was something more to her Elizabeth's tragic tale of love, as well.

Addison suddenly turned her face away from his and headed for the door. "I should be going. My mother will be expecting me back," she muttered as she flew by him, wiping the tears on her sleeve.

* * *

_When I get the Pearl back, I'm goin' to teach it to the whole crew, and we'll sing it all the time! Jack shouts, loud and barbaric, while waving his hands around in a flourished manner. His body rocks in time with the waves that scatter up onto the beach and she can't help but be entranced. It's as if he is the sea himself, ageless and free._

_And you will be positively the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish Main! She replies with equal gusto that draws him closer to her face. Her vision of him slightly blurs at the edges. Had she really drank more than she'd intended?_

_Not just the Spanish Main, love, the entire ocean. The entire world! Elizabeth smiles at him, watching as he gazes off to the benighted horizon as if he has forgotten she's even there. In his eyes lay something of a longing. _

_Wherever we want to go, we go. That's what a ship is, ye know? It's not just a keel and a haul and a deck and sails, that's what a ship _needs_, but what a ship _is_…what the Black Pearl really is…_

_Is freedom._

Elizabeth's eyelids fluttered open. She had escaped the recollection that visited her in the form of a dream to find herself partially submerged in grayish water. She peered over the lip of the tub at the hearth but a few paces away to where a fire burned low to the ground. Her shoulders sagged tiredly in the lukewarm water. How long had she been asleep for? It felt like ages since she'd last taken a proper bath and it seemed the soothing heat had taken her completely off her guard.

She cupped the water in her hand before stretching her fingers to release it back into the tub. Jack would be returning soon for dinner and she had nothing prepared. Let alone the cot in the room Addison had so generously offered for him to stay in was unturned. He would be residing in the bedroom nearest to the front of the house where the outstretched horizon was visible from the window. A series of prickles passed under her skin. A pirate known for his lecherous antics would be staying in the house of a woman – no, not simply a woman but the _Pirate King _- widowed but a month prior.

People would talk.

_People will_ always_ talk, Lizzie. It's in their nature. I say why not give the poor sods a chance to add some thrill to those dreary lives of theirs?_ She could almost hear Jack say to her in her mind's eye before he would place an encouraging hand at her back. A gesture so blasé for his likes though it always seemed to catch her off her feet.

Elizabeth straightened up, the water pushing against its confines in small waves and spilling over the side. She stood and rung her hair out of the grime left in the water then seized the blanket placed at the side.

Clutching the cover across her sharp-angled shoulders, Elizabeth headed for the door. She cut across the hallway in a few quick steps to her bedroom which was dimly lit apart from the crackling blaze in the fireplace. It drew her forward where she dropped to her knees, leaning her head against the bench at the foot of the bed. She could feel her face glow against the heat, the chill that nipped her cheeks quickly fading to warmth. Elizabeth sighed and shifted positions so that her dripping feet were in front of the fire. The flames lapped at the air, flickering between shades of auburn and scarlet as it adjusted itself on the burning log. Haziness passed over her vision, causing her eyelids to droop.

_Elizabeth, are you still sitting in front of that fire? You know you should be dressed by now._

"I'm almost ready, father. I'll be down in a moment," she replied to the phantom voice that followed the knock at her door. Rubbing her eyes, she hugged the blanket closer to her body and stood.

_I'll be waiting in the carriage then. Honestly, dear, it _is_ best to be prompt for these kinds of events._

Elizabeth scoffed, fumbling through her wardrobe while muttering, "Yes, since we don't wish to make an impression on Sir Ashburn II and his adoring consort who seems likely to jump off the second-story terrace than to hear anyone so much as breathe the word _piracy_."

"Lizzie?"

Elizabeth started with fright at the voice from behind her closed door. It sounded different, clearer even. She scuffled forward, carefully watching the tail of the blanket so as not to stumble. Pressing a hand lightly to the door she waited silently.

"Everything alright in there, love?" She took a breath, feeling an odd sort of relief.

"Jack…" she cooed, sliding her back against the door until she was crouched on her knees. The room suddenly felt empty of its inviting warmth. She cast a glance about the room. This wasn't Port Royal, her father hadn't been out in the hall, and a carriage wouldn't be waiting out front. _You're going mad,_ the familiar voice in her mind prodded. How she loathed that voice._ Say what you wish,_ she responded,_ I'll not listen to the likes of you anyhow._

"I could hear you muttering from all the way out in the hall. Had me wondering what uncouth gentlemen you'd invited back to your bedroom and why none of them included your darling Jack."

She gave a light laugh and said, "I'm appalled, Captain Sparrow, that you would think me so indecent."

From behind the door, she heard Jack settle to his feet to be at her level.

"Well then, pardon my impudence. I'd no idea your virtue was so well intact." And she could hear the smile in his words. An image of him slouched against her bedroom door with an elbow resting on his bent knee appeared through the obscurity of her mind.

Her fingertips lightly traced the barrier between them. She suddenly wanted to touch him, feel the rise and fall of his chest and listen to the beating of his heart within. _Why, Elizabeth? You have Will's heart to listen to now._ The taunting voice remarked.

"I just want to remember what it felt like," she murmured, pressing her cheek to her shoulder while she closed her eyes. The steady thump of his heart, the warmth of his hand against her cheek, the taste of salt on his lips.

"Like what felt like?"

She snapped to attention, the hard wood pressed against her temple. "Uh, nothing, it's nothing," she stammered as she fumbled with an appropriate answer, "The heat from the bath and the fire just seems to have thrown me into a bit of daze, is all. I'll be right out to start supper."

Elizabeth rushed to her feet and away from the door, leaving a rather befuddled Jack Sparrow out on his behind in the hall.

* * *

_AN: I wasn't particularly fond of this chapter, but I hope my next will come out the way I'd like it too. My deepest thanks for those who are continuing to read and those who have just begun reading and have decided to stick around. Reviews are heaven! Please leave one!_


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